Salvador Dalí – The Persistence Of Memory (1931)

The Man With The Moustache pressed me to build a castle for him,

in his booming voice –

“Quick – if you may,
For my time is precious,
As how
are blue in summer!”

While I contemplated this absurd request,
I observed him with an astute eye…

He wore a lovely cravat of the silkiest white,

rotund belly
violet waistcoat
and the most fantastic

I had ever seen.

He carried a mahogany walking stick,

with a
strange gleam
in his brown eyes.

So I set myself to this curious task with gusto –

One, two!

And buckled his shiny shoes;


a contemptuous brick,
for every brave
in the sky…

six –

Heaving the unhappiest of mirrors
from gay wheatfields,


Then eight…


bursting asunder,

in all
directions –

(I caught as many as I could, for his splendid garden)

Nine, and then, obstinately,

As The Man With The Moustache handed me a sack of gold for my efforts…


My eyes flutter open, as the bubble is burst,
The sunlight laughs,
as frightened squirrels and sleepy cats
gladly take cover
from the resulting hullabaloo –

“There’s a phone call for you!”

(Sometimes life can be a cruel joke. Let us nap in peace, please.)

© Zelda Reville


3 thoughts on “Siesta

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